


A Companion By Any Other Name

by LilyK



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: When the time comes for Jim to choose a Guide, he chooses someone who seems much like himself: neat, quiet and serious.





	A Companion By Any Other Name

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose  
By any other name would smell as sweet.  
\--william shakespeare--

Companion: accompaniment, accomplice, aide, ally, amigo, assistant, associate, attendant, brother, buddy, chaperon, chum, co-worker, colleague, comate, complement, comrade, concomitant, confederate, consort, convoy, counterpart, crony, double, escort, fellow, goombah, guide, helper, match, mate, nurse, pal, pard, partner, playmate, protector, roomie, safeguard, sidekick  
\-- theasurus.com-- 

\--------------------------------

"I've chosen Blair Sandburg." 

With those fateful words, Jim Ellison leaned back in the chair, loosely crossing his arms. He gave a nod to the man sitting before him. "Out of the applicants I've interviewed, he seemed to be the most -- adequate. He's neat, clean, quiet and intelligent. I want a Companion who fits that description. I need somebody who will fade into the background, and he seems to fit the bill. I wasn't crazy about the long hair, but when I asked if he'd be willing to cut it, he agreed immediately. That demonstrated his willingness to work with me, so I'm willing to overlook it." 

"Good choice!" Director Burns said. "I didn't think he'd last long on our books. He just joined the program two weeks ago and finished orientation over the weekend. I think you've made a fine choice." 

"Thank you. When do I get to take him?"

Director Burns laughed. "He's not something you "take", Sentinel Ellison. He's available for your needs as soon as the contract is signed. As you know, we expect our Companions to be treated as the Sentinel's equal. Any type of abuse or misconduct on either party's part will not be tolerated, and the Companion -- or the Sentinel, for that matter -- may petition for a hearing before our Board to terminate. You are fully aware of this, aren't you?" 

Ellison gave a curt nod. "Yes." 

"Also, you know that if for any reason there is a hearing brought by the Companion, and the Sentinel is found in breach of contract, all of the fees paid on the Sentinel's part are forfeit. Furthermore, you may be subject to a large fine if the Board finds on behalf of the Companion. There are also provisions for a breach of contract hearing on behalf of the Sentinel. We want both parties to live in harmony." 

Again, Jim nodded. "Yes, I understand." 

Pulling out several legal-size contract forms backed with light blue paper, Burns nodded and smiled. "Good. I'm sure this will be a more than amenable relationship for you and your new Companion. You seem willing to do what is necessary to facilitate a fruitful association." 

"Whatever it takes. I'm on duty in twenty-four hours, so I need to have him settled in and ready to work with me by then." 

"He will be, I assure you. He's one of our best candidates." Handing Jim the original contract for his review, Director Burns said, "This won't take long. We like keeping the contract concise and easy to understand since a lot of our clients are regular people who might not be used to a lot of legal terminology. I don't need to read it verbatim since you've already read through it earlier. If you would please initial each part while I quickly go over the highlights, that will speed the process along." 

Burns explained the major details while Jim nodded and initialed where indicated. When they finished the review, Burns said, "So you understand, Sentinel, that both Companion and Sentinel are required to treat each other with courtesy. As -- friends, if you like, but certainly as respected co-workers," Burns added with a wave of his hand. "It makes both of their lives much richer, and many of our pairings have extended their contracts many times. Some have even made lifetime commitments. We're here to make your life and Companion Sandburg's life better." He smiled. "Any questions?" 

Jim nodded. "I see that Sandburg has already sighed the contract. How did he know that I'd choose him?" 

Burns shrugged and said with a laugh, "He said he had a good feeling about you. I think that's an excellent beginning. Companions and Sentinels who share a kind of -- let's call it, a special bond, do very well together. I'm more than pleased about this pairing." 

"Thanks. The funds will be transferred to your bank electronically within the hour. Are we finished?" Jim started to rise. 

Burns rose and held out his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Ellison. I see you're a man of few words; your companion is also. I foresee many blissful years of peace and quiet ahead of you, and I think this pairing is a match made in heaven, as they say. It's been a pleasure." 

Feeling good about this decision, Jim rose and held out his hand. "Thank you, Director." 

"You are very welcome, Mr. Ellison. Good luck to you both." 

\-------------------------------------

"So this is your room," Jim said, pushing open the door nestled under the stairs that led to the second floor. "Bathroom is there," he continued, waving a hand. "Kitchen, as you can see, living room, balcony." 

"Thank you," Blair said quietly, standing in the hallway. 

When Blair didn't move into the room, Jim added, "You can put your stuff down, Sandburg. There's a closet and a dresser for your clothes." 

"Thank you," Blair repeated moving past Jim and setting his one small bag down on the bed. 

"Is that all you have?" 

Nodding, Blair glanced at Jim briefly. "Yes." 

"Do you have anything -- appropriate for work?" Jim asked, perusing the well-worn jeans, the flannel shirt and the corduroy coat with a patch on the arm. 

"I'm not sure... What do you require me to wear?" Blair uncomfortably shuffled his feet. "I can get whatever you suggest tomorrow." 

"Plain slacks, no jeans, button-down shirt, sports coat, or maybe a leather jacket. It's not formal, but I prefer you to look neat on the job." 

"Okay." 

"Are you hungry?" 

"Yes." 

"What do you say you take a shower and put your stuff away while I fix something to eat?" 

"If you like." 

"Sandburg..." 

"Yes, sir?" Blair asked, eyes meeting Jim's. He didn't look afraid or intimidated, but Jim saw something in those eyes he didn't like: resignation mixed with sadness. 

"No need to call me "sir", Sandburg. Jim or Ellison is fine." 

"Yes... Jim." 

"This is your home," Jim said quietly but firmly. "You understand that, don't you?"

"Thank you. I sincerely appreciate your accepting my contract. I promise to do the best I can for you and..." Blair clamped his mouth closed before he whispered, "Sorry." 

"For what? You're free to speak. And I want you to be comfortable." 

Blair turned those deep blue eyes on Jim once again, making his heart flutter for a second. "How are your senses?" 

Jim smiled. "They're good. I noticed that when I met you, they seemed..." He shrugged. "I don't know -- clearer. They responded to you so I -- listened." 

Blair gave Jim a quick smile. "Good. Just be sure to let me know if anything I do bothers you. And anything else for that matter. I can check your food and toiletries if you like. I'm here to make sure your functioning at your best. I can do the laundry and clean the apartment. You can make a list or a schedule of what you want me to do. I'll do the shopping also if you'd like." 

With a smile and a shake of his head, Jim turned toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "You'll do, Sandburg. Now get a move on and we'll have some supper." 

"Okay, Jim." 

\---------------------------------------

Simon Banks poured two cups of coffee. Passing one across the desk to Jim, he cocked his head toward the bullpen. "How is he?" 

Jim's gaze found his new Companion, who sat at Jim's desk, familiarizing himself with current cases. "He's good. Quiet, which helps my senses a lot. It's been three days since he moved in and I don't even know he's around. He stays in his room unless I need him." Jim allowed his senses to waft over his Companion. "He's very -- careful, though. The first two nights, he didn't even turn on a light or use the bathroom after nine o'clock. I had to tell him not to be so cautious around me. But he cleans up after himself and he's taken over dish washing and laundry duty. I'm happy." 

"How are your senses?" Simon asked, watching Blair through the glass. 

"Great. Sandburg seems to be a calming influence. I wasn't exactly thrilled to have to have a permanent Companion after all this time, but he's okay. I think it will work. He's familiar with police procedure, which will be helpful. And he's willing to learn." Jim turned back to Simon. "His prior experience in anthropology is useful also. He knows how to observe and disseminate information. That will be good at crime scenes." 

Simon looked again at the young man. He wore plain brown khakis, a tan shirt and a brown leather jacket. His hair, though long and curly, was pulled back tightly into a ponytail at the base of his neck. "He seems unobtrusive enough, but what about the hair?" 

Jim shrugged. "If you don't like it, I'll ask him to cut it. He agreed to it earlier, but actually... I kind of like it myself. If you don't mind, that is." 

Simon waved a hand holding a lit cigar. "Nah. It's okay. It kind of suits the kid." Turning to the work at hand, he asked, "So how's the Keller case coming?" 

With a final glance at Blair, Jim began to give his boss the rundown. 

\---------------------------------------------

"You'll have to stay in the truck." Jim said firmly, pulling the vehicle close to a large stand of bushes growing next to one of the cement pilings of the highway's overpass. The traffic overhead made an echoing sound while rainwater ran off the span and dripped down onto the truck's metal roof. Turning toward Blair, Jim pointed a finger at his Companion, who had already opened his door, ready to accompany his Sentinel to the meet with the regional drug lord. "And don't even begin to look at me with those puppy-dog eyes. I know you won't disobey a direct order, and this is a direct order. Stay in the truck." 

Blair nodded unhappily and crossed his arms, turning his face away from Jim. 

Jim sighed. "Listen, Chief..." He waited somewhat impatiently for his solemn partner to finally look at him. When he had Blair's attention, he said, "I started working on this case long before you and I hooked up. Now I know you're my partner, and you've been a great help this past month, but Keller isn't going to take it too kindly if I suddenly turn up with a new sidekick." He saw the tight lines around Blair's mouth, and Jim knew that Blair wanted to say something but he kept his mouth tightly closed. For a moment, Jim was irritated. 

Ever since they had begun their partnership, Blair had been helpful and attentive, but he rarely started a conversation or made a suggestion unless it was related to Jim's senses, and he had never given his opinion on anything unless specifically asked or it was Sentinel business. Jim was beginning to become frustrated. He'd given Blair explicit permission to treat him as a friend, and when spoken to, Blair was polite, and his advice and suggestions were often beneficial. He answered Jim's direct questions, but rarely volunteered anything extra other than as it specifically related to the question, and he disclosed absolutely no personal information about his life before he moved in with Jim. While Jim appreciated his attentiveness, he still felt that something wasn't quite right, and he was annoyed, both at himself and at Blair. He felt he should be able to figure out what the problem was, and he was a bit disgruntled that Blair had put him in the position to worry about this in the first place. 

Jim had initially thought he would appreciate a quiet partner, but now he was beginning to wish that he and Blair had more interaction. That they could watch basketball together, go for a burger, shoot hoops, just -- talk. He enjoyed being with his Companion, and now he wanted more than just a shadow. With a sigh, he pushed the petulant thoughts away and returned his concentration onto the task at hand. 

With a hand on Blair's shoulder, he asked, "Do you understand? I know you're first instinct is to follow along, but..." 

"Yes, Jim," Blair answered in his usual even voice. 

"You can hear what's going on with the transmitter, and you can keep an eye on me with the binoculars. Banks is only two blocks away; he's listening also, so if I need help, he'll send in backup. It's all covered." 

While he remained silent, Blair's unwavering blue eyes held Jim's. Jim could see a hint of rebellion flare momentarily before it disappeared. "Did you want to add anything?" he offered. 

"No, Jim." 

Jim sighed. "Okay. I'm going to hand over the briefcase with the cash and Keller is supposed to give me ten kilos of the Golden. It should be an easy bust." 

At Blair's curt nod, Jim shook his head and exited the truck. Before closing the door, he blinked the headlights twice and started to walk forward toward the opposite end of the area where a white van was waiting. He glanced around, sending out his senses to test for anything unusual or out of place. He located only two heartbeats, so he huffed out a bolstering breath, walking toward where the two men with whom he had been doing business, Keller and Beecher, waited beside their van. He could feel his weapon at the small of his back, and it gave him a sense of comfort. Everything was set. Banks and backup would appear within a few moments after he made the exchange to cart away the perps. All exits and escape routes were covered, and all Jim had to do after he passed over the cash was to pull his gun, identify himself as a police officer, and hold the men until backup arrived. 

"Let's see it," Jim ordered when he stopped about ten feet away from Keller. 

Keller walked forward a step, hands in his jacket pockets. "You first," he said, cocking his head toward Jim.

With a nod, Jim unlocked the case and flashed the cash. Keller's partner stepped forward and fingered the bills, checking several packets of money at random. "It's all here," he finally said after a few moments of inspection. 

"Show me," Jim said. 

With another nod from Keller, Beecher walked over to the van and from the front seat, pulled out a large green plastic case by the handle on the lid. He opened the two silver clips holding the case closed, and tipped it forward so that Jim could see the bags of the yellow powder stacked neatly inside. 

Jim held out his case. Keller took the money while Beecher handed Jim the case containing the drugs. Keller smiled, exchanged glances with his cohort, and with a satisfied grunt, calmly pulled his pistol from his pocket. Before Jim could take another breath, he pumped two bullets right through the plastic case, shattering it. Both bullets hit Jim in the center of his chest and the last thing he remembered was the blinding pain. 

\------------------------------

"...damn it, Jim. For God's sake, wake up!" 

With his Companion's normally quiet voice, tense and demanding, echoing inside his head, Jim woke. He felt -- odd. His head was spinning and his tongue was swollen and dry. Something was clamped under his nose, forcing air into his body -- a nasal cannula, he realized -- but for some reason, the contraption felt huge, like it was trying to split his skin. He attempted to bat at the object, but somebody -- Blair? -- held onto his hands for a moment until he let out a sigh and went still. Then he tugged at the sheets, intending to push them away. The material rubbing against his body felt like sharp knives scratching into his skin. He opened his eyes and groaned deeply. Golden rays shimmered and shone, outlining Blair in a halo of blinding light. He shut his eyes immediately and called out in a hoarse voice, "B-blair?" 

"Thank God! I'm here, Jim. How do you feel?" 

Jim shifted minutely, moaning at the pain. His chest was on fire and his eyes, nose and throat burned. His head ached unbearably, and his skin rippled with pain. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, and tears involuntarily leaked out. "I feel... like my head..." Raising his trembling hands, he managed to rub his eyes, spreading the moisture on his skin. Even the touch of his fingers hurt his face. "My head... Everything -- hurts..." 

"Jim, turn down the dials. You remember the dials we worked with, don't you? Turn them down. Can you hear me?" 

Moaning, Jim gave a single nod of his head. After a few moments, he shuddered. "Can't..." 

"Jim, you can. You can do it. Now listen to me. Are you listening?" Warm fingers massaged his forehead, then his temples. "The dial is white with big black letters. Your pain dial is at ten. Turn it down to three. Do it now!" Blair ordered. "No, don't move. Don't open your eyes. Dial down your pain to three. Ten... nine... eight... seven... Keep going."

Jim struggled to concentrate; each breath seemed to burn his lungs. Finally, he managed to set his pain level as requested, and when he huffed out a shaky, relieved breath, Blair's fingers ghosted against his arm. 

"Good job, Sentinel. Now lower your senses one by one until they're normal or below." 

The fingers moved slowly, hypnotically. Jim again complied with Blair's requests while his Companion's voice droned on. He ignored the words and allowed the tone -- calm, soothing, comforting -- to wash over his senses. Finally, most of the unpleasantness abated, and with an exhausted sigh, he drifted to sleep. 

When Jim woke again, he still felt terrible, but not nearly as awful as he had earlier. He glanced at his surrounding, finding Blair asleep in the chair beside his bed, his beard showing two days' growth and his clothing rumpled. Jim shifted, still feeling out of sorts, but the Golden shimmer around objects in the room wasn't as pronounced, and the discomfort in his chest, which was tight and sore, was bearable. Again wiggling uncomfortably, he cleared his dry throat and tried to reach for the water pitcher beside the bed. Clumsily, he accidentally pushed the plastic container to the floor, where it landed with a sharp thud on the green tiles, splashing water onto Blair's legs. The combination of the sound and the water woke Blair with a start. 

"Jim?" he croaked. "Hey! You're awake!"

"Yeah." Jim blinked his dry eyes. 

"You want some water?" he asked, seeing the puddle that had spread across the floor. 

"Please." 

With a small smile, Blair rose, picking up the empty container. He touched Jim's shoulder. "Let me go and get a clean pitcher and some cool water. I'd better get something to clean this up before somebody takes a header. I'll be right back." 

"Sorry," Jim said softly. Then he added, "Thanks." 

"Hey, no problem." With another smile, Blair left, returning shortly with a fresh pitcher and large handful of paper towels. He dropped the towels onto the pool of water on the floor before he poured the drinking water into a plastic cup and added a straw. "You want me to raise the bed a bit?" 

"Yes, please," Jim answered, speaking quietly and limiting movement to avoid jarring his body. After Blair raised the bed, he held the cup for Jim, who drained the glass. 

"More?" 

"Later. Thanks." Jim rubbed his eyes. "What happened?" 

"You were shot. Twice. The vest stopped the bullets, but you have a cracked rib and plenty of bruising from the impact." 

Jim's hand rubbed his chest. "It's really tender, but... I feel really awful and it's not from the ribs." 

"No, it's not. When that asshole shot you, the bullets shattered the plastic case holding the drugs. A couple of the bags were ripped, and when the box fell, the drug spilled out. You were covered with the shit." Blair wiped the floor and tossed the used towels into the trash can. 

"Why?" Jim whispered. 

"Why were you covered with the Golden, or why did he shoot you?" 

"The second."

"We think it was because the police helicopter picked the wrong time to do a fly-over." 

"What?" Jim asked, trying to make sense of the whole thing. "What helicopter?" 

"You must have been so focused on the exchange that you didn't hear or see it, but Keller did. It flew over; he freaked and shot you." 

Slowly, Jim nodded. "Okay. Did they catch the idiots?" 

"Which? The cops in the air who didn't realize there was a set-up going on under their feet, or the drug pushers?" 

Jim shook his head in mild exasperation. "The pushers, Chief." 

"Yes, both of the drug dealers were caught." 

"Good." 

"Why don't you-" 

A knock at the door interrupted Blair's words. Simon's head poked inside. 

"Hey, Jim. You're finally awake!" Simon gave his friend a wide smile. 

"I'm here," Jim answered cockily. "Feel like crap, though." 

Simon walked over to the bed and grinned. "It's about damned time. You had us worried. I'm glad you're going to be okay." 

"Me, too, Captain," Jim said with a nod. 

"Thanks to Sandburg," Simon added. 

"What?" Jim looked surprised. 

"He didn't tell you?" Simon glanced at Blair and raised an eyebrow. 

"No. He just said you got the guys." 

"Yeah, we got them, but only because of Sandburg's quick action." 

"Really?" Jim intently looked at Blair, who had retreated to a chair on the opposite side of the room where he sat still and silent. "Chief?" 

Blair raised his face and his eyes flicked up. He shrugged. 

"Sandburg, tell the man," Simon ordered. 

Blair remained quiet for a moment before he said, "I was just doing my job -- protecting Jim. The credit for the bust belongs to him." When he once again fell silent, Simon gave an exasperated snort. 

"Yeah, right." Turning to Jim, Simon said, "If he's not going to tell you, then I will. When you went down, Sandburg raced into action. The perps took off in their vehicle. Sandburg took your truck and got in front of them. He forced them against one of the cement pillars. We arrived just in time to see him take them both down." At Jim's raised eyebrow and astonished look, Simon nodded. "Your truck suffered minimal damage, so don't get your knickers in a bunch. Anyway, the one driving -- Keller -- tried to run by the truck, but Blair opened the door right into his face, and down he went. He has a broken nose and a slight concussion. Then Sandburg jumped out, picked up a rock and beaned the other one, who was trying to take off in the opposite direction. He needed six stitches and also has a concussion. 

"Sandburg was on such a roll that when I yelled at him to be careful, he didn't hear a word I said. Then he raced over to you and started checking you out, yelling at me to get an ambulance." Simon gave Blair a sidelong glance. "I had no idea he could yell that loudly," he said amusingly, making Blair cross his arms and to Jim, it looked like he was trying to sink into the chair and disappear. "Well, your Companion then ordered me to get him some bottled water from your truck and he started to wash that shit off your face and out of your nose and eyes. The doctors say his quick action kept most of that crap out of your system, although with your senses, you still took quite a wallop. You were covered with the stuff. Like a yellow snow fall." Simon made little waggling motions with his fingers, imitating snow falling onto Jim's body, making Jim chuckle. 

"And..." Jim said encouragingly. 

Simon chuckled deeply. "You're going to love this part. Sandburg ripped off your clothes and washed as much as he could off you. By the time the paramedics got there a few minutes later, he had most of it washed away. The doc says you probably would have OD'd and would be dead now. As it is, with your senses..." Simon grinned and shrugged. "He's a darned good Companion." 

Jim smiled. "Thanks for telling me. In spite of me flashing everybody in the immediate vicinity, he's a good partner." 

"No problem." Glancing at his watch, Simon sighed. "Meeting with the mayor in an hour. You take it easy." He pointed a finger at his detective, who nodded. 

"Will do, Simon. Thanks." 

"Sandburg," Simon said with a nod. 

"Good bye, sir," Blair responded quietly. 

With a chuckle, Simon left. 

"So, Chief..." Jim paused, waiting for the reluctant blue eyes to meet his. "Come here."  
Blair rose and slowly crossed the space between them. He stopped a foot away from the bed and waited. "Thank you." 

Blair blushed lightly. "It wasn't much." 

"Drop the shy act, Companion. I said thank you." Jim held out his hand as if to shake Blair's. 

"You're welcome," Blair finally said, taking Jim's hand. He let out a surprised squeak when Jim yanked him into his arms and hugged him, rubbing Blair's head with the back of his knuckles. 

Jim laughed lightly, releasing Blair somewhat reluctantly. Blair hadn't returned the hug, but he hadn't tried to pull away either. He considered Blair's acceptance of his gesture of affection a small victory, and that made Jim happy. 

Blair shifted from one foot to the other, a small smile on his face. His eyes met Jim's and his smile widened. "I'm glad you're okay. You need to rest." 

"What I need is to go home. This place..." Jim sighed and tried to get comfortable against the unfamiliar mattress. 

"Are your senses doing better?" 

"They're under control, Sandburg. Thanks to you. Now go and get the doctor so I can get out of here." 

For a moment, Blair looked like he would protest, but after a brief pause, he nodded and said, "Yes, Jim." 

\-----------------------------------

Settled comfortably on the sofa, bottled water close by, remote in hand, and a glass of fresh orange juice on a coaster, Jim gazed over the back of the sofa at his Companion, who fussed around the kitchen, cleaning the already clean counter. 

"Blair?" 

"Yes?" 

Jim almost shivered. He loved when Blair turned his full attention on him. Those blue eyes, so deep and intense, looked at him with patient affection, but underneath the touch of coolness, Jim knew there was a passionate man. He just wished he could see that man for himself. 

"You've been keeping an eye on me for two days now. What do you say to you taking the rest of the day off?" 

"Why?" Blair asked suspiciously. "Have I done something..." His words dried up and he chewed on his lower lip. 

"Companion, please come over here." Blair came as asked and stood at the end of the sofa looking directly into Jim's eyes. Jim liked that Blair almost always looked at him rather than avoiding his gaze. It made Jim feel -- important. It also let Jim know that Blair wasn't intimidated or frightened of him. Now if he could just get the guy to open up and treat Jim as a friend -- and maybe in time, even more. 

"You've been with me for more than a month now. You've saved my life. You've done everything I've asked without question. I think you deserve a few hours of private time. Go and do whatever you'd like. Go to a movie. Meet one of your friends. Do something you enjoy without me looking over your shoulder." Blair looked like he had a thousand questions buzzing around his head so Jim prompted, "Ask me." 

"Are you sure?" he asked, unable to keep the hopeful tone from his voice. "Really?" 

"Sandburg, didn't I tell you that we're friends? You are not a - a captive! Now take a twenty from my wallet and get the hell out of here!" Jim tempered his words with a grin and a wave of the hand. "I want to wallow in the basketball playoffs in peace!" 

Blair smiled. "Thank you." He disappeared into his room for a few minutes, returning with his shoes on and the old, worn leather backpack that Jim had found in the bottom of his closet during a cleaning jag and given to his Companion to throw away, over his shoulder. "I'll be home by seven to fix your dinner." 

Jim eyed the ragged backpack but decided to ignore it for now. He'd see about buying Blair a new one when he was back on his feet. Instead, he asked, "Did you get the cash?" When Blair remained silent, Jim knew by now that since he never lied to Jim, that meant he hadn't. He just ignored anything that he didn't want to do, hoping that Jim would ignore it also. This time Jim was insistent. "That's an order, Blair. Go and get some money. Today is my treat." 

With a curt nod, Blair climbed the steps and returned with Jim's wallet in hand. He passed it over to a disgruntled Sentinel. "Geez, Chief. I told you to help yourself. I don't think you'd steal from me." Jim extracted a twenty and handed it over. He would have tried to give Blair more, but he didn't want to make his Companion feel uncomfortable. Blair was cautious enough about what was his and what was Jim's. He never touched Jim's things, going so far as to not helping himself to any food in the kitchen that he hadn't bought himself, as well as shampoo, or other toiletries. And Jim knew he was extremely cautious with his money. He didn't own a car and rarely spent any money other than for bare necessities. Jim thought about asking, but he felt that it wasn't his place to question Blair's private life. He considered Blair's actions for a few moments, tuning his senses on his Companion as he left. 

After Blair had reluctantly taken Jim's offering and thanked him for it, Jim had tracked his Companion's movements out of the loft, down the stairs and across the street to the city bus stop. It took Jim a few seconds to realize that he hadn't suggested that Blair use his truck, and of course, Blair hadn't asked. Jim rose from the sofa and cautiously stretched his body. He felt pretty good after his adventure with the drug dealers. Slipping into his shoes, he grabbed his jacket and took the keys to his truck from the basket beside the door. 

By the time Jim reached the street level, Blair had gotten on the bus and it was pulling away from the curb. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Jim climbed into his truck and followed the bus. After fifteen minutes, Jim started to finally wonder what the hell he was doing, but still, he stayed with the bus. His curiosity mounted the longer he followed it. Just where was Sandburg going? And why was he so damned curious to find out? When Blair exited the bus at the downtown terminal thirty minutes later, Jim was surprised to see him board yet another bus and continue his journey. 

It took almost ninety minutes for Blair to make his slow trip across the span of Cascade and through several outlying suburban neighborhoods. He changed buses four times in total, until he disembarked on a quiet street in Stonehurst. Jim knew that Stonehurst was an old section of Cascade dotted with renovated Victorian mansions, formerly occupied by cattle and land barons, successful businessmen and other wealthy citizens of the fast-growing Western city at the turn of the nineteenth century. 

Jim watched as Blair entered a small corner drug store. After ten minutes, he exited with a white bag from which bulged several items. The bag caught Jim's attention. He smelled something flowery -- rose-scented, hand lotion maybe? Chocolate, and -- something spicy. Taking a deeper breath, he sneezed. Sage. He was allergic to sage. Watching his Companion from afar, he saw Blair walk three blocks East before stopping in front of one of the large three-story Victorian houses surrounded by a six foot wrought iron fence and large stone pillars. The grounds were landscaped with old growth, along with bright patches of seasonal flowers. Marigolds, vinca and periwinkles dotted the yard in colorful beds. Jim could hear the sounds of voices and laughter floating out to him, and when he made a preliminary sweep of the grounds, he found a group of people gathered behind the house playing a game. He could hear the fall of footsteps, the sounds of a baseball bat cutting through the air, and a small thump when a ball hit the wooden bat. 

Jim pulled his senses back to himself and moved closer, focusing his sight on the small brass placard attached to the stone, and his hearing on Blair. Greenstone Manor. Blair pressed a small buzzer embedded in the stone, spoke when asked his identity and entered when the gate unlocked with a quiet click. Careful to close the gate behind him, he disappeared down the driveway and through the front door. Jim kept his hearing latched onto Blair's heartbeat. He heard Blair greet several people by name -- Mrs. Stanhope, Marilyn -- and he heard the sound of clothing rubbing against clothing. Blair was -- hugging the women he had spoken with. 

"She's out back, Mr. Sandburg. It's such a beautiful day and you know how much she loves being in the garden." 

"Thank you, Mrs. S. How is she?" 

"She's just fine! She's such a joy to us. Go on. You know the way." 

"Thanks."

Blair's tone of voice sounded different, yet familiar somehow. Jim considered this fact before it hit him. When he was barely conscious in the hospital, he's heard Blair's voice pleading with him to wake up, to get well, and that tone was full of care, concern and yes, even a hint of love. Once Jim was awake, Blair's voice reverted to his usual carefully controlled timbre -- friendly and helpful. The perfect Companion. Jim felt a momentary stab of jealousy. Blair was visiting a woman, he was bringing her gifts, and from the inflection of his voice, it was somebody he cared about. 

"Get a grip, Ellison, you asshole," he groused under his breath. "The guy is allowed to have friends other than you." Still, the flash of envy was strong, so Jim refocused on his Companion, determined to discover who vied with him for Blair's affections. 

"Mom!" 

With that single word, Jim froze. He immediately pushed away the green-eyed monster that bit at his butt and yanked back his hearing. Cranking the engine, he drove away, a million questions nibbling at his brain. He had no right to invade Blair's personal life, and even though he knew without a doubt that he was falling in love with the quiet man, he knew it wasn't right to spy on him. Suddenly feeling like he'd betrayed Blair's trust, and thoroughly angry with himself for his untoward actions, he raced home. 

\------------------------------------------

"Jim. Simon. I need you and Sandburg to back up Brown and Rafe over at Club Doom. They have a bust going down tonight." 

"Be happy to, Captain, but Sandburg's not available tonight. I'll be there in thirty." 

"Are you okay without the kid?" 

"Simon, I've been working the streets for ten years without him. Besides, my senses are grounded for long periods now. He keeps me fine-tuned. I'm good."

Simon laughed into the receiver. "Fine-tuned? That's a good one. Where is he anyway?" 

"I gave him the night off. He needed some private time." 

"Okay. Don't be late. I'll send Connor over to back you up." 

"That won't be neces-"

"Yes, it is. That's an order." 

"Yes, sir." Jim let out a small sigh as he hung up the phone. He'd convinced Blair to take the night off only because he'd planned on vegging out on the sofa, watching some of the twenty-four hour marathon of Bonanza episodes. Scribbling Blair a note in case he wasn't back before his Companion got home, he grabbed his gun, extra clip, jacket and his keys, and headed over to meet his fellow officers at Club Doom. 

\--------------------------------

"That's the guy," Rafe said, pointing at the monitor. A tall, well-built, baby-faced guy walked by the surveillance camera. "He's the asshole who's been making life hell for a lot of women. Jackson Sharpe. Twenty-five; no record to speak of. A few juvvie run-ins. He's a chem major. Been in college for years. We think he stays in school to have lots of access to the co-eds." 

Jim carefully examined the attractive young man with the flowing blond hair as he danced with a beautiful girl who looked barely eighteen. While the rest of the crowd was gyrating to the fast beat, this guy held the girl close, and danced sensually with her. From the look on the girl's face, she was mesmerized by him. "So he approaches the mark, sweet-talks her, buys her a drink, gets her into his car and then what?" 

"The bastard rapes them." 

"Are they drugged?" 

"Yes, but not enough to limit their ability to consent. This drug is new; something we've never seen before. The victim is aware of the circumstances, but very -- amenable to any suggestions. We know what's in his concoction, but we figure he makes the stuff himself. It dissipates quickly, and so far, he's kept the formula to himself. We have a warrant ready to search his place and for his arrest, but we want to make sure the case is air-tight."

Jim slowly nodded. "This is what higher education gets you these days?" he said snidely. "So you're saying that the women are agreeing to the sex while under the influence of the drugs." 

"They remember everything. They're even aware of the event while it's occurring but they're powerless to resist. In their mind, at that moment, what's happening is acceptable." 

"That's really sick. How many?" 

"Tonight is number eighteen. That we know of." 

Jim turned a surprised face toward Brown. "Eighteen?" 

"We've been tracking this guy for six months, bro. He's a real piece of work," Brown answered. "Oh, and get this. He always picks them nice and rich. Before he rapes them, he takes them by your convenient ATM machine and has them withdraw as much money as daddy allows." Brown nodded at Jim's shake of disbelief. "Yeah, over forty grand in six months." 

"Single man operation?" Jim asked. 

Rafe responded, "Yeah. That's why he's been so tough to catch." 

"What about video surveillance at the ATMs?" 

Brown nodded. "He's not on any of the tapes. The women are, though, putting in their ATM cards and their security passwords. They aren't being held at gunpoint or being coerced. They act like they're more than happy to be withdrawing the cash." Brown grimaced before he continued. "But we got him tonight, though. She's one of ours." He nodded toward the monitor with a huge grin. 

"That girl?" Jim asked incredulously. "She's not even legal!" 

Rafe chuckled, crossing his arms loosely after he picked an invisible piece of lint from his coat sleeve. "She's twenty-three. Recruited right out of high school by the PD. From what I hear, she discovered undercover work and the rest is history. She can pass for sixteen, so she's great for any type of crime that involves minors." 

"Oh, right," Jim said with a nod. "I remember hearing about this gal. Her identity is kept very quiet, from what I understand, and she's had several commendations already." 

"That's the one. Nice woman, too. Balls this big," Brown said, holding his hands apart about a foot, making Jim smile. 

Jim returned his eyes to the monitor when somebody else caught his eye. He rose slowly and stared, focusing on the person who had grabbed his attention. Long curly hair. Compact body. Face alight with joy, eyes sparkling. Sandburg? But it couldn't be. This Sandburg didn't look or act like "his" Sandburg. This man bounced and swayed, arms thrown over his head, a wide grin on his face. When his head turned in time to the music, Jim saw the flash of silver from above the collar of the man's richly colored shirt. Earrings? This man was exuberant, almost hyperactive, like he had to live right now or... 

"Be right back," Jim muttered, slipping out the door. "Nature call." 

"Make it quick," Rafe said. "If he moves, we'll need you to track him." 

"Right," Jim said distractedly, waving his hand. 

Jim carefully walked along the back wall out of the way of the flailing dancers. He searched for the familiar heartbeat of his Companion in the crowded room and found him instantly. Latching onto the sound, Jim positioned himself far enough away so as not to be seen and melted into the shadows, out of the beacon of the flashing light that swiveled around, peppering the dancers with a rainbow of colored dots. He concentrated everything on his Companion. 

Blair danced with wild abandon. His hair flew in all directions, loose and flowing. Jim had never seen that hair like this, almost alive, and it made Jim shudder with pleasure. The flash of silver in his ears, two delicate metal hoops, caught Jim's attention. He almost zoned on the tiny rings, so he pulled back a bit and took a deep breath. 

Blair's body swayed and bounced. His eyes sparkled. Jim could see the blue, bright and twinkling, wide and breathtaking. The shirt Blair was wearing set off his coloring perfectly. The rich burgundy silk, slightly damp from his exertions, clung to his body. When Jim looked closely, he could clearly see a nipple, erect and hard, beneath the thin material. 

Blair turned his back to Jim. Jim saw the form-fitted black jeans encasing the firm backside. As it wiggled in the jeans, Jim felt his mouth go dry and his heart race. He leaned back against the wall and pressed a flattened hand onto the rough surface, breathing heavily, grateful for the firm surface that held him upright. Blair turned again and Jim saw his eyes catch those of his fellow dancer. They both smiled. The friend leaned closer and said something into Blair's ear before pulling back. Blair's face lit up even more, if that were possible, and he did something Jim had never seen or heard before: he laughed aloud. 

Jim sucked in a breath and held it. Rich and melodious. Deep and soothing. Sensual and sexy. Blair laughed. The small white teeth flashed as they coyly captured his bottom lip, and he shook his head at whatever his fellow dancer had asked. The next time the man leaned in, Jim quickly focused, hearing the words the stranger spoke: "Please! You are so damned sexy. We'll be careful. I have protection..." 

Pulling away, Jim closed his eyes. His Companion with another -- man? Please God, no. Forcing himself to look again at the couple, Jim breathed a sigh of relief when Blair again shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. When the friend shrugged and laughed, Blair laughed also. Again, the sound hit Jim full in the face. It wormed into his head and his heart. It made his blood race and his body tingle. He wanted Blair to laugh like that at home. With him. Not here, with strangers who didn't... Who didn't love him like Jim did. 

Suddenly, he pushed away from the wall. He quickly moved away, even though all of his instincts urged him to race out onto the floor, to gather his Companion into his arms, and to press his lips to Blair's. But he was working, and his Sentinel instincts to protect were also alive and well. He made his way back to the employee entrance and to the small monitoring room. 

Rafe nodded to Jim when he returned and they watched the monitors for another fifteen minutes before Jim said, "He's on the move. Let's do it."

Putting thoughts of Sandburg from his mind, Jim did his job. 

\--------------------------------------- 

Jim dragged his tired body home at 7:30 the next morning. The bust had gone well. The perp was arrested and processed. Reports had been submitted. Now all he wanted was a quick meal, a hot shower and eight hours of sleep. When he walked through the door, Blair was in the kitchen, fixing breakfast. 

"Chief," Jim greeted, tossing his keys into the basket and shrugging off his jacket. 

"Hey, Jim. Hungry?" Blair gave Jim a small smile. He was dressed in his usual tan khakis, light colored button-down shirt and brown shoes. His hair was pulled back and when Jim focused, he could see the tiny holes in Blair's left ear. 

"Starved. How'd you know I was on my way home?" 

Blair shrugged. "Companion radar," he offered, making Jim laugh. Pouring Jim a cup of coffee, he carried it to the table. "Sit. Eat while it's hot. Your note said you got called out on a stake out. How did it go?" 

Jim sunk into the chair with a grateful smile. "Thanks," he said, sipping the hot brew. With a satisfied sigh, he dug into the plate of eggs, grits and toast. "Good," he murmured around a mouthful. "Caught a guy who's been raping co-eds over at Rainier. To really top it off, he was stealing from them as well. Raked in over forty grand in six months." 

"Good work, Jim. Wish I'd been here to help you." Blair sat a glass of orange juice next to Jim's plate. "Fresh squeezed." 

"You're too good to me, Sandburg," Jim said before he took a bite of toast and a sip of the juice. "No problem about your having a night off. Rafe and Brown were there. I was just the bloodhound." 

"Tracking, huh?" 

"Yeah." Jim finished his eggs before he said tiredly, "I'm beat." 

"You want me to go in today? I can finish up those files." 

"Do you mind? I'm going to shower and hit the sack. No sense you sitting around here." 

"No, I don't mind at all." 

"Take my truck." 

Blair remained silent. By now, Jim knew that meant that Blair wouldn't refuse directly, but when Jim would look later on, his truck would still be sitting in front of the building, and Blair would have taken the bus. 

"That's an order," Jim said softly. "Take the truck. No arguments. Agreed?" 

Blair looked into Jim's eyes and slowly nodded. "If you say so." 

"Blair?" 

"Yes?" 

"Are you -- happy here?" Jim's gaze held Blair's firmly until Blair finally glanced away. Surprised, Jim saw his face color. The cheek facing Jim turned pink while his senses picked out the accelerated heart beat and the faint scent of -- pheromones? "Blair?" he prompted, waiting patiently. 

"Yes," Blair responded softly. 

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" 

Blair's eyes sought Jim's. They looked confused and anxious when he asked, "About what?" 

"How you feel about being here? About us." 

"Us?" he echoed. 

"Me, Sentinel. You, Companion," Jim teased. "Us." He waved a hand at Blair and then back to himself. "Are. You. Happy?"

"Happy?" Blair repeated. 

"Oh, for God's sake!" Jim rose. He put his hands on Blair's upper arms and hauled him to his feet. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Blair's. Not forcing the kiss, but not backing away either, he kissed Blair ardently for a few more moments before he released his Companion. Still holding onto Blair's arms, he stepped back and said, "You do know what happy is, don't you, Chief?" 

"Oh, God," Blair whispered, his fingers flying to his mouth to press against his lips. 

"Is that a 'wow-what-a-great-kiss' "Oh, God" or a 'get-the-fuck-away-from-me-Ellison' "Oh God"?" Jim asked in a voice full of affection and a good bit of hope. 

Blair's eyes widened and he raised his arms, his hands clamping around Jim's so that they were tightly holding each other. "I- It-" Blair cleared his throat. "Why?" he managed to blurt out, his eyes locked onto Jim's. 

Jim looked directly at Blair and said simply, "I'm in love with you." 

Blair's eyes grew wide and he tried to step back, shaking his head. He tugged at his arms, trying to break free. "No," he whispered. "You- can't!" 

"What? I can't love you? Why not? You're my Companion." 

"That's not- You don't- Jim, please," he begged. 

"I'm not letting you go until you tell me why you believe I can't love you. Tell me, damn it. I need to know! I can hear your heart racing and I can see your throat tighten." Jim's voice, instead of being raised in anger, dropped low and was very quiet. "You're lying," he said unhappily, "and I know you're not that kind of a man, Sandburg. Tell me why." 

Jim dropped his hands, taking the chance that Blair wouldn't bolt; that he would be strong enough to stay and explain himself. Jim wasn't disappointed. 

Blair planted his feet and tipped his head almost defiantly. "I'm a fraud." 

Jim's eyebrows rose in surprise. "What?" 

"I'm a fraud, man. A big fat, fucking fraud." 

"I don't understand." 

Blair glanced sideways at Jim and he gave a derisive snort. "No shit." 

"So we'll talk about it." Blair crossed his arms and dropped his head, by now a familiar gesture that told Jim that he wasn't going to obfuscate, but he wasn't cooperating either. "We're sitting down and we're talking about this." 

Blair glanced through his lashes. "Is that an order?" he asked harshly. 

Jim nodded. "Yeah, it is. Now sit." Waiting until Blair complied, Jim went to the fridge and pulled two bottles of beer. He uncapped them both, tossed the tops into the trash on the way by, and held out one of the bottles for Blair. "Drink." 

Blair stared at the bottle until Jim pushed it in his hand. "A bit early, isn't it?" 

"I've been up for thirty-six hours." 

"Good point," Blair said, finally taking the bottle and after a moment, sipping the cold brew. 

Jim chuckled. "It's about time. 

"What?" 

"You've never touched a single beer in that fridge, Chief. Why is that?" 

"That's your property. Not mine. I don't steal." 

"Since when is sharing a beer from a six pack with a friend stealing?" Blair shrugged, sipping the beer, but he remained silent. Jim reached over and touched Blair's shoulder. "I was at Club Doom last night." 

Blair's eyes widened and he held his breath before he huffed it out and asked angrily, "Did you -- follow me?" 

"No!" 

"Well, darn." 

"What? Geez, Sandburg, you're running hot and cold today. First, you get your hackles up when you think I might have followed you. Then you act like you're disappointed that I wasn't. What is up with you?" 

Blair took another pull from his bottle before he said, "Sorry. It's so confusing. First, I want to apologize to you for deceiving you." 

"How did you deceive me?" 

"You said you were at The Doom. You saw me, apparently." 

"Yeah, so? You were out for the night. You let down your hair." Jim chuckled, "Figuratively and literally, 'apparently'," he repeated, using Blair's tone of voice on the last word. "Why shouldn't you have a good time. How is that lying to me?" 

"Because what I've been... How I've acted here, since I moved in with you... That isn't who I am, and I- I miss who I am. I miss me," Blair said passionately before he shrugged and took another sip of beer. "I've missed this also." 

"Which have you missed more? Beer or -- you?" 

Giving a small "humph", Blair nodded. "I've missed a lot of things." 

"Like..." 

"Being myself. Having fun. Going to the movies. Watching basketball. Just... being me. I feel so -- I don't know. Like I'm not in my own skin any more. Like I'm lost. I'm sorry, but this," Blair patted his own chest, "this Sandburg, the one you've been living with the past month or so, it isn't me. It isn't the real me. Not by a long shot. I'm so sorry that I deceived you. I'm just so damned sorry about everything." 

Jim turned on the sofa, getting more comfortable, knowing that this might take a while. "I'm not sorry at all. And I like the "real" Blair. I've seen him, and I think he's more like the kind of Companion -- the kind of friend that I'd really enjoy having around." Jim scratched his chin and added, "I'd like to help you find yourself." At Blair's slight snicker, Jim rolled his eyes. "That sounded really very -- New Age-y. I hate that stuff." 

"My mom..." As the words dried on his lips, Blair looked out the balcony windows. 

Jim shifted uncomfortably, but he felt if he said something now, it would level the playing field and make Blair feel like he could confide in his Sentinel. "Listen. There's something about me you don't know either." When Blair glanced at Jim with curiosity, Jim said quickly, "I followed you the day you went to Greenstone Manor." 

Blair was silent for a long moment before he asked firmly, "Why?" 

Jim blushed. "It started out innocently. I came down to give you the keys to the truck so you didn't have to take the bus, but when I got down to the street, you were already gone. I figured I'd catch up with you at the next stop or two; make you take the truck instead. I don't know," Jim muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I started to wonder about you. Who your friends were. What you like to do. So I followed the bus until you got to Stonehurst. I..." Jim shrugged. "It was wrong of me to follow you. Since we're being straight with each other, I wanted you to know." 

"So... you followed me because you were curious?" 

"Yeah, pretty much. I'm sorry I invaded your privacy. It won't happen again. Last night... At Club Doom, that was accidental. I saw you on the monitor while we were staking out the perp. You looked -- great." 

Blair nodded in understanding, a pleased smile crossing his face. "Thanks for telling me. It means a lot to me that you feel like I deserved to know about what you did. I felt as if I could trust you, and now I have proof. That counts for something." 

Jim touched Blair's arm and asked, "What about your -- mom? Do you want to tell me?" 

Blair sat very still for a long minute before he slowly nodded. "I haven't told anybody. I'd really like to tell you, but..." He started to fidget before Jim could actually see him force himself to sit quietly. He'd never noticed before just how hard it was for Blair. How he had to stifle his inner self. How he thought that doing it would please Jim. And how if he continued to force himself to be somebody he wasn't, Blair was going to end up with a hell of an ulcer. 

"But..." Jim said encouragingly. 

"But I'm afraid." 

"Of what?" Jim asked gently. 

Blair crossed his arms, tightly hugging himself. "I'll fall apart and I won't be able to pick up the pieces. I know I have to be strong, but it's just so -- hard!" 

"Tell me. Maybe I can help." 

Blue eyes, wide and hopeful, looked at Jim. "It's been about six months since -- the accident. Drunk driver. She -- my mom..." Blair cleared his throat and ducked his head. "She was brain damaged. Sometimes she thinks she's sixteen. And she thinks I'm her -- beau." Raising his face, Blair glanced at Jim and said firmly, "I have to take care of her! There's nobody else! I couldn't leave her in that -- other place. It was awful!" 

Jim held out a hand. "Whoa, there, Chief. Settle down and tell me. What other place?" 

"A state facility. It was -- not good. Not for Naomi. Now... Well, now she's so -- carefree and happy. She loves flowers and puppies and..." Blair rubbed his suddenly damp eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. 

"So you found her a nicer place and it's taking every cent you have." 

Blair looked into Jim's eyes and nodded. "How did you...?" 

Jim shrugged, smiling. "I know how much those places cost, Chief. The good ones. What? Thirty grand a year?" 

"Thirty-five." 

"Damn, Sandburg. What about insurance?" 

"Naomi didn't believe in those types of establishment institutions. She was one of the original flower children. She believed in -- Ah, hell, she was a hippie. She did what she wanted and the world be damned." Blair sighed. "There was some money for a state institution, but not for private. It's all up to me." 

"And you love her." 

"She's my mom," Blair answered simply. 

"So you signed on to the Companion program because you needed the money." 

"Yeah. I had to quit school when the accident happened," Blair said sadly. "No way I could keep up with my grants and schoolwork and work a job to pay for the home for my mother. The Companion program pays very well. When you took my contract... Well, it's enough for me to cover the costs for the next five years for her. That is, if you don't terminate and I have to find..." Blair turned his face away. 

Jim felt a stab of fear slice through his body at the very idea. "No way, Chief. I'm keeping you. If you don't mind, that is." 

Blair gave Jim a grateful smile. "I don't mind at all, Jim. In fact, I really like it. Thank you." 

Jim scooted closer to his Companion and asked, "How much does it leave you for living expenses each month?" Blair shrugged, turning his body away from Jim. He fell silent, but Jim moved even closer and latched his hands on Blair's upper arms, gently turning him so that they were facing each other. "Tell me, please." 

"About a hundred bucks." 

"For the entire month? For food, clothing, bus fare, damned toothpaste?" 

"Yeah. If I'm really careful-" 

"I want to help." 

"Jim, man. That's really nice of you, but I can take care of my mom myself." 

"Then let me take care of you." 

"What?" Blair asked, staring at Jim with a look of shock, confusion and a hint of hope. 

"From now on, starting today, I want to take care of you. You pay for your mom's care out of your salary, and I'll do my part with groceries, clothes, stuff like that. The loft's paid for, so I don't have rent or a mortgage. A light on in the kitchen costs the same whether I'm here alone or you're here with me. What's an extra shower between friends anyway?" Jim's voice was quiet when he asked, "Will you let me do this for you? It will make me feel really good." 

"I don't know..." Blair shifted and chewed on his lower lip. "It's really too much." 

"I have to eat anyway, and shopping for two isn't that much more than shopping for one. Besides, you'd be doing me a big favor. You can continue doing marketing because I hate shopping. If it makes you feel better, you can still do the laundry and cleaning like you've been and we'll take turns cooking. It will be a partnership, with both of us pitching in. I'll toss in the cash. You toss in your services. It's sounds like an excellent arrangement to me. What do you say? Deal?" Jim put on his most hopeful, pleading face. He could practically hear the cogs whirring in Blair's brain. 

Finally, Blair's face broke into a warm smile. "Okay, Jim. Thank you. That's really great." Rising from the sofa, Blair looked down into Jim's upturned face. "You're a good man, James Ellison." 

Jim smiled and rose also before he broke into a wide yawn. "I'm about to fall over here, Chief. I need a shower and some sleep. We'll talk more when you get home." 

Blair smiled in return. "I'd better get moving. Captain Banks will be pitching a fit about that paperwork." 

Jim grinned and patted Blair's cheeks. "Have a good day." Then he leaned over and quickly kissed Blair right on the lips. With a laugh, Jim skirted around his surprised Companion, patted his behind and sauntered toward the bathroom without giving Blair another glance. He did, however, focus his senses on Blair, and was pleased at the response from his friend. The elevated heart rate, the faint scent of arousal, the quickening of his respiration, and the tongue that flicked out to taste Jim's residual flavor from the kiss, all let Jim know that Blair was definitely amenable to Jim's advances. 

With a satisfied smile and a light heart, Jim went to shower. 

\-------------------------------- 

Jim Ellison lounged in the chair in front of Captain Bank's desk, sipping a cup of overly sweet espresso. He rolled the flavor on his tongue, tasting the tartness of the imported beans and the residual sugar on his tongue. Cane sugar, not beet, he knew, smiling to himself. Thanks to Blair, his senses were so fine-tuned, he sometimes surprised himself with his abilities. 

"What?" Banks asked. 

"What?" Jim yanked his thoughts back to his friend. 

"You're sitting there with this grin on your face. I can only describe it as smug." Simon raised an eyebrow. 

"Sorry, Simon. It's just that I'm so damned happy." 

Simon laughed deeply. "So I've noticed. He have anything to do with it?" Simon waved a hand toward the bullpen while he glanced out of the blinds. 

Jim grinned and even blushed a touch. "Yeah. He's -- pretty great." 

"It suits you. I'm happy for you, Jim." 

Jim nodded. "Thanks." He didn't even have to turn his head to look at Blair. His senses were totally tuned into him and his mind supplied the image of his Companion just last night. Blair -- naked and flushed -- hovering over him while Jim's own hands clenched the guide wire of the railing that ran along the loft over the bed, his legs wrapped around his lover so tightly that Jim was afraid he'd crack one of Blair's ribs. Buried balls deep in Jim's body, Blair's hand touched Jim's hard shaft. With his eyes wide and his mouth open, Jim could feel his penis swell even more before his seed spurted forcefully over Blair's fingers and his own stomach. Coming so hard that he thought he'd pass out, Jim remembered his Companion's voice, rough and passionate, growling at him to feel, to smell, to taste, to touch, to see all that flowed between them, so alive that it was a tangible life force binding them together. When Blair came inside of Jim's body, Jim's outcry of desire and love mirrored his Companion's. 

Jim grinned at the memory. "He's everything I could want in a Companion." 

"So you've made a lifetime commitment?" At Jim's nod, Simon said, "That's good for the department. Having a committed pairing on staff means extra funding. And it means a Sentinel who's steady and in control." 

Feigning a nonchalant shrug, Jim rose and his gaze finally touched on Blair. His Companion walked toward Simon's office, stopping to chat with a colleague or two on the way. Hair down, flowing in shiny ringlets over his shoulders, he looked happy and content. His retro-Fifties bowling shirt, baby blue silk with a contrasting dark blue collar, suited his coloring, and the blue jeans that tastefully hugged his body made Jim's mouth water. Blair's eyes flashed bright blue and his smile never dimmed. He slapped Brown on the back before shaking hands with Rafe, touching his arm while he spoke. Companions tended to touch a lot, and Blair, even more so, a fact that Jim found to be an exceedingly welcome bonus in his discovery of all that was Blair Sandburg. 

Jim saw how much Blair had improved over the past couple of months, and he was tickled. Blair was friendly, outgoing, talkative and much to Jim's tolerant chagrin, sometimes messy at home. But with his easy-going nature, even Jim's occasional crabby outbursts were met with a roll of his expressive eyes and a quick resolution of whatever had sent Jim into a hissy fit in the first place. 

And in bed... Well, Jim couldn't be happier or more pleased or more satisfied or... More of anything, he realized. My Companion, he thought, knowing that Blair was his willingly. A virgin to a man's touch when he came to Jim's bed, he learned quickly, and now turned his intimate knowledge of his Sentinel's body into the ability to send Jim's senses through the roof. Jim had never had so many fulfilling orgasms in his entire life until he shared a bed with Blair. 

Opening the door for his Companion, Jim smiled. "Hey, Chief." 

"Hi, Jim," Blair said, giving his Sentinel a warm smile. "Captain." He greeted his supervisor with a smile and a nod. 

"Sandburg," Banks responded. "Coffee?" 

"Oh, man. Yes. Thanks! I need the caffeine. You won't believe what happened to me and Jim yesterday!" 

"Sit, Sandburg, and give me the short version," Banks requested, handing over the cup. 

"Sure, Captain, anything you say," Blair answered with a laugh. 

Enjoying the rich sound of Blair's laughter, Jim took a seat and leaned back, letting his senses caress his Companion. Blair started talking and the second he launched into the story, Jim grinned. Short version? As far as Blair was concerned, no story had a "short version." With a contented sigh, Jim got comfortable and settled back for yet another interesting trip into the Sandburg zone. 

\--------------------------------------


End file.
